


What I Know

by squirenonny



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Black Paladin Lance (Voltron), Gen, Post-Season 4 AU, Strategist Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 19:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15915156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirenonny/pseuds/squirenonny
Summary: When Shiro's injured just before a time-sensitive mission, the team calls Keith back from the Blade of Marmora to fly the Black Lion, only it's not Keith she chooses. It's Lance, and he's not sure if he's up to the task.





	What I Know

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written for the _Lancito!_ Charity Zine months and months ago now (between seasons 4 and 5), so it's obviously quite a bit of an AU at this point. I've always loved the idea of Black Paladin Lance, and this was my chance to explore a little bit of what that might look like. Enjoy!

The Black Lion was a giant, even on the scale of the other lions, taller than Blue and broader than Yellow. Two years with Red might have skewed Lance’s perceptions, but he couldn’t help it; standing before the Black Lion he was seventeen again, ankle-deep in icy water in a cavern no other human had seen and overawed by the first glimpse of his future.

“Not too late to change your mind, you know,” Lance said with a feeble laugh. The Black Lion gave no answer, just went on staring at him with those achingly familiar gold eyes. In many ways, she was no different from Red or Blue. Same engineering, same controls.

Different heart, though. And there was an unsettling pressure in the air, like the whole castle was holding its breath. _You?_ the expectant silence seemed to say. _The Black Lion chose you?_

Yeah. Lance was still coming to grips with that one himself.

“Lance?”

Lance stiffened, then turned toward Keith’s voice with the best smile he could manage. Keith had been in and out of Lance’s life since joining the Blade, often disappearing for weeks at a time on some mission or another. He always returned, though, sliding quietly back into the place carved out for him in the castle. He wore the red paladin armor now for the first time since he’d left, its white lines a stark contrast to his usual somber hues.

Lance found the sight oddly comforting, though it reinforced the echo of their younger selves. Keith and Lance, neck and neck. Keith and Lance, paladins of Voltron—both a little broken, a little lost. Both still searching for their place in the universe. They’d come so far in two years, but maybe not far enough.

“You made it,” Lance said when the silence had stretched too long.

“Of course I did.” Keith slowed, drumming his fingers on his helmet, which he held at his hip. His eyes went to the Black Lion. His lion. (Not that Keith owned Black. Not that Shiro owned her, even, but they both shared a bond with Black that Lance had no right to trample over.) “How’s Shiro?”

“Coran says he’ll pull through.” Lance had to turn away from Keith as he remembered the last battle. One minute everything had been going to plan. The next, Shiro was on the floor with a hole in his side. Lance shivered. “I was worried for a while, to be honest, but he’s stable now. We were hoping he’d be out in time for the ambush, but it looks like that’s not gonna happen.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Keith said. “He never did know how to take a break.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Keith chuckled, but then the silence returned, invisible hands rising up to strangle Lance. Should he say something? Black had only roared for him after they’d ended the call with Keith, so he probably didn’t even know why Lance was down here.

“Keith, hey.” Lance shot a look over his shoulder. “So… I dunno how to say this, but Black sort of… chose me.”

“Yeah. Allura told me.”

Lance bit his lip. “She… She did?”

Keith cocked his head to the side, searching Lance’s face. “What’s so surprising about that?”

“Nothing, just…” Lance took a deep breath, then turned fully toward Keith. “I mean, this was sort of your thing. Flying Black.”

“For, like, two months.” Keith crossed his arms. “I was just filling in for Shiro anyway. I never wanted to take his place.”

“And I don’t want to take yours!” Lance pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. An old tension had crept into his bones, pulling tight beneath his skin like something inside him was trying to break out. “Maybe you should do this.”

Silence answered him. Lance felt the heat rising in his neck and resisted the urge to moan. It had been ages since he’d last felt like this—unsure of himself, unsure of his place on the team. Always measuring himself against his friends like this team was one big contest and he had to prove he was the best. He was past this.

He’d thought he was past this.

Keith laid a hand on his shoulder, hesitance keeping the touch light.

“Sorry,” Lance said, letting his hands fall to his side. “You don’t want to hear all this.”

Keith tilted his head to the side, his gaze piercing. Lance wondered what he saw when he looked at him. The showboater who’d declared them rivals? The paladin who’d been his right hand? Or someone else entirely? “The Black Lion wouldn’t choose anyone she didn’t feel was worthy to lead Voltron,” Keith said. “I respect her decision. You should, too.”

The words hit like a punch, driving the breath from Lance’s lungs. A lump rose in his throat, and he covered with a laugh. “What, so now we’re regifting advice? Is that what’s happening here?”

Keith shook his head, a smile breaking past his solemn expression. “Hey, they’re wise words. Better than anything I could come up with. You were always good at that, Lance. Finding the right words. And you were right.” Keith nodded toward the Black Lion. “She knows what she’s doing. Just trust her and you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You _will_.” Keith’s smile turned wry. “You can’t possibly be as bad as I was.”

“You mean when you charged into a lion-scrambling hellscape and got us all lost with Lotor on our scent? No, I don’t think that’s on the agenda for today.” Lance bit down on a smile as Keith rolled his eyes, feigning offense.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Never split the party, man. That’s rule number one.” Lance jostled him with his shoulder. “Seriously, though. I’m glad you’re here. There’s no one else I’d rather have as my right hand man.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather follow.” Keith gave his shoulder a shove and settled his helmet into place. “Now let’s go rescue this prisoner.”

* * *

The plan was simple: Maulinda, a prominent rebel strategist, had been captured three weeks ago in a raid. She’d dropped off the grid, and Pidge and Matt had finally located her—just in time for Voltron to plan an ambush. She was being moved today to the heart of the Empire, the only prisoner on a high-security transport.

Hunk and Pidge had built a disruptor to temporarily disable the ship’s warp drives and force it to stop, like laying down spike strips on an intergalactic scale. While the Galra engineers tried to fix the engines, the paladins would swarm the ship and be in and out before the Galra knew what hit them.

In theory.

“We’re all set over here, Lance,” Pidge said. “The transport should be passing through in about five dobashes.”

“They’ll be pretty shaken up when the disruptor hits,” Hunk added. “Hopefully we can bust through their defenses and get to Maulinda before they scramble their fighters.”

Lance lowered himself behind Black’s controls, smiling smugly. “And then _wham, bam, pow_ , and we’re back to the castle for our victory parade! Or milkshakes. We’ve gotta at least do milkshakes after this.”

Allura cracked a smile at that, but the atmosphere remained tense, four sets of eyes watching for the flash that would mark the start of battle. Unease curled in Lance’s gut. This wasn’t how things usually ran. The team was prone to pre-flight jitters—more so lately with the stakes climbing ever higher. It usually fell to Lance to lighten the mood during missions and keep anyone from fixating on potential disasters. A little thing, sure, but it had kept them sane this long, and it was something Lance was good at.

But everything felt off today. Maybe it was that Lance was too worried about the mission to strike the right tone. Maybe it was just that he sat in the Black Lion. You never saw Shiro goofing off on the job.

Lance adjusted his grip on the controls, breathing deeply. Right. If the team needed him to be a leader today, he would be a leader. He could do this. He could! It was just a matter of looking at this the way Shiro would.

“Okay,” Lance said, squaring his shoulders. “Deep breath everybody. They aren’t going to let Maulinda go without a fight—but we’re ready for this. Hunk and--” Lance faltered for just a moment. In the original plan, Hunk and Shiro had led the charge, tackling external defenses while Lance led the infiltration team. He supposed Keith would be taking his place inside, though—they needed Black’s firepower to defend their exit. “Hunk and I will make an opening for the rest of you. Pidge, you have the schematics?”

“Already sent copies to Keith and Allura,” she said.

“Perfect. Get to Maulinda and get out again as quick as you can.”

Pidge snapped a salute that felt just the slightest bit sarcastic, but Lance couldn’t complain. She’d heard the plan a dozen times by now—heck, she’d helped come up with it. Lance was just nervous, and when he got nervous, he started rambling.

Fortunately, he didn’t have long to wait. A new star appeared among the rest, then swelled to a brilliant wash of green. Lance squinted against the light, giving Black power. “Hunk!” he cried. “Now!”

The Yellow Lion surged forward at Black’s side, both of them hurtling toward the ambush point. Lance charged Black’s main laser, his thumb hovering over the trigger as he waited for a target to materialize. They’d been unable to discover the precise number of ships in the escort, but estimates put it in the realm of two dozen fighters with a couple of heavy hitters to back them up. Easy pickings for two of the Voltron Lions.

The light faded, racing outward from ship to ship in crackles of lime green electricity as the fleet drifted, momentarily stalled. Lance took a shot at the first fighter he spotted. It burst alight, flames dying in an instant, but Lance hardly noticed. The lightning continued to spread, the backdrop of stars warping as more ships joined the disorganized mass already filling Lance’s field of vision.

“That’s more than a few fighters,” Hunk said, pulling Yellow up short before he smashed his way into the heart of the Galra fleet.

Lance pulled back on Black’s controls in the next instant, strafing the fighters with his tail laser as he veered aside. His heart thudded against his ribs, and he tried to take in the size of the fleet—an honest-to-god _fleet_ , not just a small escort. There had to be at least two hundred fighters, and a dozen larger, more heavily armed ships. All they needed now was a couple of battle cruisers, and they’d have the complete set.

“They must have known we would target the transport,” Allura said. “They increased security as a precaution.”

And of course Pidge and Hunk hadn’t had time to figure out a way to target only the transport with their disruptor. It hadn’t seemed like such a big deal, rushed as they were. So they’d pull a little escort force down with the transport. Big whoop.

“Quiznak,” Coran muttered. He and the castle-ship were waiting some distance back, out of the range of the immediate ambush. The lions were maneuverable enough to avoid the ships dropping out of hyperspace, but the castle was another story, and Shiro hadn’t wanted to risk a collision. “Should we pull back?”

“No,” Lance said. “Maulinda’s too important, and if we lose this chance we won’t get another one.”

The Red Lion passed Black, laser cannon glowing, and Lance felt a tug in his chest as she went. “I’ll stay out here with you,” Keith said. “We’ll just have to try to hold them off.”

He seemed not to notice the authority with which he’d spoken. Why should he? Keith had always been outspoken about his opinion, offering suggestions even when Shiro sat in Black’s cockpit. The weeks he’d spent as their leader and his experiences with the Blade had only cemented his air of authority. It would have been so easy to just go along with it. Lance had been ready to have Keith back in the Black Lion today; he’d been _expecting_ it.

And yet…

A few of the ships’ lights flickered as they recovered from the ambush. The disruptor wouldn’t have knocked out their weapons or their maneuverability, just the warp drives, and even that only temporarily. The whole plan had hinged on a quick strike, in and out before the Galra rallied their forces.

That wasn’t going to work now, and just swapping Keith to the exterior team wouldn’t solve the issue.

“Keith, wait,” Lance said, thinking quickly. “Pidge—cloak.” She raised an eyebrow, but activated Green’s cloak without a word, her lion fading from view. “Good. Keith, you’ve done lots of infiltrations with the Blade, right?”

“Sure.” Keith frowned, Red drifting motionless about halfway between Lance and the enemy. “We’re helping out on the front lines more lately, but most of our work is still stealth-based.”

Lance nodded. “Perfect. Get to the Green Lion. Pidge, take him to the transport, then come help the rest of us with these fighters. Hunk, Allura, you’re with me.” He punched the engines, diving into the thick of battle and laying waste to half a dozen ships in the first onslaught. Hunk was right there with him, headbutting a ship taking aim at the Black Lion, and Allura joined them a moment later.

“I’ve got Keith,” Pidge said. “Heading for the transport now.” She hesitated for an instant, the silence punctuated by the flash of another fighter turning to space dust. “You sure you don’t want me in there with him?”

Doubt plucked at Lance’s nerves, but there was no time for second thoughts. “I’m sure. Look at this fleet, Pidge. They’re counting on stopping us out here. Security inside will be lax, especially if they think we’re all still out here.”

“So I can get to the prisoner and get her out without anyone noticing I’m there.” Keith leaned over the back of Pidge’s seat. “Good thinking. But I’m going to need more time if you want me to avoid patrols.”

Lance nodded. “I know. Fortunately for us, we’ve got a couple of geniuses on our team.” He pulled up as one of the heavy hitters opened fire on him, his stomach clenching at the close call. He’d gotten used to Red’s speed, and by comparison, Black dragged. It wasn’t so much different from flying Blue, but he had to stay focused. “Hunk, break away as soon as you can. We’ll need you to take out the transport’s warp drive before they get it back online. Without destroying the whole ship, if you can.”

Hunk scoffed, reversing Yellow’s thrusters so a cluster of fighters smashed against his shoulders. “‘If I can.’ Lance, I’ve studied every Imperial schematic I can get my hands on. I think I can take out one little warp core.”

Lance grinned. “That’s what I like to hear! Pidge—we’ll need you in the battle to keep up the illusion we’re all still out here, but more importantly, jam their comms. Don’t let them call for reinforcements.”

“Okay, but what about Red?” Pidge asked. “If we only have four lions in this fight, someone might notice something’s up.”

Lance and Keith locked eyes over the comms screen, smirking. How many times had the Red Lion launched herself to come to Keith’s aid? How many times had she done the same for Lance, even diving into the thick of battle to reach him? If Keith needed her to take on an army, she would find a way to do it.

“Don’t worry about Red, Pidge,” Keith said. “She can take care of herself.”

“If you say so.”

The castle-ship’s laser burned across the battlefield, blinding in its intensity, and tore through a destroyer’s shields. Lance rolled Black up and over it, picking off fighters that scattered before the attack.

“All right.” Keith summoned his bayard in his right hand and raised his Blade, in his left, toward the camera in salute. “I’m going in.”

“Good luck,” Lance said. “Hunk, that’s your cue. Allura? What do you say we knock some of these heavy hitters down a peg or two?”

Blue’s rumble of approval was audible over the comms, and Allura smiled. “Let’s go.”

The Yellow Lion split away from the pack just as Green charged in, hitting a destroyer hard before dropping her cloak and drawing a half dozen fighters into a chase. A burst of fire from Red cut the pursuit short.

“Told you,” Lance said, activating Black’s jaw blades and shearing off the barrel of a cannon so when it fired at the castle a second later its shot went wide. He fired twice from Black’s tail as he moved on, joining Allura, who froze the shield generator on the neighboring ship. In the next instant, she wheeled around and opened fire together with Lance, burning two gaping holes in the ship’s hull.

Keith grunted, swearing softly, and Lance twisted Black around in time to see the last spurts of flame emerge from the side of the transport.

“Engine’s down!” Hunk called. “And I didn’t destroy the ship, _Lance._ ”

“Never doubted you, buddy. Pidge?”

“Comms are jammed, but…”

“But?” Allura asked.

Pidge hummed, shooting down three more fighters in rapid succession. “They aren’t calling for reinforcements.”

Lance frowned. “Isn’t that what we wanted?”

“No, I mean—they aren’t even trying. We’re tearing through their escort, and they don’t care. It’s almost like--”

“Like they expected this,” Lance said, cursing. “Keith, how’s it going?”

“About as well as any infiltration,” Keith said, voice grainy as the comms amplified the sound to compensate for the roar of engines and lasers. “I’m getting close to the prison block, but I’m going to have to check each cell until I find the right one.”

Lance worried his lip, his forward momentum slowing as he surveyed the battlefield. Something wasn’t right here. The larger escort, the way they weren’t calling for help… “Everyone stay alert,” he said slowly.

“You think this is a trap?” Allura asked.

“I don’t know.” Lance drummed his fingers on Black’s controls. He was keenly aware of the others’ attention on him, waiting for an explanation, waiting for direction. But Lance didn’t know what he was expecting. Something bad, but what? He couldn’t shake the feeling that Shiro would have already figured it out. “Just keep moving, Keith. The sooner you have Maulinda, the better.”

“Copy that.”

For a few minutes, it continued in the same vein: Keith cautiously making his way through the interior of the ship, waiting painstaking seconds for patrols to pass, disabling cameras and alarms when he couldn’t bypass them; the rest of them methodically taking out the fleet in the air. Red fought, but she was slower and clumsier without her pilot. Could the Galra see that? Or would they just think Lance was having an off day?

Coran eliminated the last of the destroyers just as Keith reached his destination and reported in: two blocks of four cells each on opposite ends of a long corridor, one guard at each block’s door.

Keith dispatched both swiftly and silently, and Lance held his breath as he opened the first cell.

Stars bent out of alignment, smearing streaks of light across the sky.

 _Oh, no._ Lance’s heart plummeted, his breath stagnating in his lungs as two battle cruisers appeared, spewing fighters and destroyers like swarms of hornets that converged on the lions, lasers lighting up the sky. The remnants of the transport’s escort broke away and regrouped with the reinforcements.

“Oh, god,” Hunk whispered. “Oh my god. Oh my god, _guys!_ ”

A digital lock chirped, Keith’s breath hissing out. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Reinforcements,” Allura said.

“I thought we jammed their comms!”

“We did,” Pidge growled, the threat implicit in her words. She swerved to avoid a barrage of lasers, twisting so they hit the shield on Green’s back.

Lance was slower, and Black roared as lasers clipped her back leg. Red froze for a moment too long and took the full force of the attack, tumbling backward. Lance’s heart twinged as Hunk positioned Yellow in front of her.

This was bad. This was _so_ bad. If Keith was here, they could form Voltron and get through this. If Shiro was here, he would have seen it coming and figured out a plan by now. He had a way of exuding confidence and calm, and not even an entire armada appearing from nowhere would have shaken him.

_Yeah, well, Shiro’s not here right now._

Lance clenched his jaw, twisted out of the way of a laser, and shoved down the voice that kept trying to draw meaningless comparisons. Lance wasn’t Shiro, and he wasn’t going to pretend to be. He was _Lance,_ and he was going to do this his way.

“Look, maybe they have us all figured out, maybe Zarkon’s got a dial-a-psychic on staff.” Lance’s tension loosened minutely as Hunk let out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know, and I don’t really care. You know what I _do_ know?”

“What?” Pidge asked.

“I know what we’re capable of. I know I’ve got the best team in the universe on my side, and if a couple of geniuses, the Blade’s best operative, and a kick-ass princess can’t handle this, then we must be in the wrong reality.”

Pidge laughed aloud at that, and the others chimed in with wordless affirmation. The Black Lion purred under Lance’s hands, untouchable as she tore through the Galra fleet.

“All right, Lance,” Allura said, keeping pace beside him. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan?” Lance grinned. “Improvise. Keith, we’re done with stealth. Get Maulinda and get out of there as fast as you can. Pidge, send me over a copy of the transport ship’s schematics, then activate your cloak. Hit hard and fast and don’t let them get a fix on your location. I’m gonna need a couple aces up my sleeve.” Lance abandoned his lasers in favor of his jaw blade as a concentrated first wave of fighters approached, tearing themselves to ribbons as Black twirled between them. “Coran, keep those cruisers off us if you can, but prep a wormhole. We’re not going to have much of a window to get out of here. Hunk, Allura, let’s make like Hulk and smash.”

Keith snorted, Pidge whooped in delight, and Hunk quietly explained the Incredible Hulk to Allura even as he tucked Yellow’s head and punched a hole through the nearest destroyer. Lance’s own smile faded quickly as he cleared the area around him and laid a hand on Black’s console.

 _Please,_ he thought, straining for the quiet presence in the back of his head. Blue had caught him up in her ocean from the moment he stepped into her cockpit; Red had warmed to him quickly once he’d stopped overthinking things. Black had remained distant for the entirety of this battle, watching him. Evaluating.

He wanted to shrink back from her silent judgment, but he dug in his heels and rose to meet it. The Black Lion chose decisive people, people who were in control at all times; wasn’t that what Allura had said? Lance didn’t feel very in control now. He felt like he was in over his head. But he’d learned from Blue how to trust—to trust himself, to trust his team, to trust his lion—and he’d learned from Red to take risks. Put them together, and he came near enough to what a black paladin should be.

 _The team is counting on us,_ he thought, falling in with Hunk and Allura and hitting the enemy hard. Their lions took hits in return, but they made progress—enough progress that the fleet seemed to have forgotten about Pidge and about the Red Lion, who had turned toward the transport ship at the same moment Keith’s comms feed roared with the sound of combat.

“I have Maulinda,” Keith called, “but security’s tight.” He grunted, pain entering his voice. “I don’t know if I’m going to make it back to the hangar where Pidge dropped me.”

Lance called up the schematics Pidge had sent him, stealing a glance at it as he tried to shake off a squadron on his tail. “Next left,” he said. “Nothing that way but cargo space, but you should be able to get close enough to the hull for Red to make her own entrance. Red Rover, Red Rover, send a giant ball of rage and lava right over.”

Keith laughed once, breathless, and Lance caught grins on his other friends’ faces—fleeting, to be sure, but better than the rictus of fear Lance’s attempt at humor chased away. He closed his eyes, reaching again for the Black Lion.

 _I’m not Shiro,_ Lance told her. _I’m just doing what needs to be done. But I need your help. So please, for everyone’s sake._

Black’s purr blossomed into a roar, the sound settling in Lance’s chest. He opened his eyes as the Red Lion echoed the cry. Her thrusters flared bright, and she rocketed toward the transport. There was no time to call out a warning before she impacted, a laser blast preceding her by an instant. She buried herself to her haunches in the ship, and Keith cried out in surprise that turned quickly to delight.

“In!” he roared to Maulinda, and then to Lance, “I’m on my way.”

Lance smiled. “All right, guys, give me space.”

“What?” Allura cried. “Lance, there’s too many enemies. You can’t take them on your own!”

“I don’t have to,” Lance said. “The Black Lion is the head of Voltron. She was Zarkon’s lion, and Haggar would literally kill to get her hands on Shiro again. If they think they can capture us, they’re going to go for it. Keith, Pidge, they’re not expecting you. Find somewhere the defenses are thin and bust through. Hunk and Allura, go with them. Coran, we’re gonna need that wormhole.”

“What about you?” Pidge asked.

Lance hesitated for just an instant, reaching out to Black. In response, the lights on the dash began to glow, lighting the cockpit with a soft violet aura.

“Don’t worry about us,” Lance said. “Get out, and we’ll catch up.”

The Blue and Yellow Lions split off from Black, circling back toward the streak of red that marked Keith’s approach. A tempest raged in Lance’s blood as he forged ahead, cutting down ships with every racing heartbeat. For every ship that fell, two more appeared to take its place, closing in around him in a lattice of lasers and particle barriers. The light stung Lance’s eyes, but he spun, continuing to fight. The lion shuddered with every hit she took—Lance couldn’t have avoided them all in Red, and the plain fact was Black wasn’t as nimble. He just had to hold out long enough. Just long enough…

Hunk whooped and Pidge laughed, and Lance caught a flash of light at the edge of his screen as a wormhole blossomed beyond the battle.

“Lance!” Keith cried. “We’re through. Whatever you’re going to do, do it now!”

For a moment, all was still. The physical cockpit around Lance fell away. The battle faded to shadow and white noise. All around were stars, glimmering at the edges of his vision. He felt the Black Lion’s mind around him, timeless and steady and nebulous, stoking a warm flame in his chest.

The violet glow of the cockpit flashed once as Lance leaned hard on the thrusters, driving forward as Black’s wings burst alight. A destroyer loomed before him, the battle cruisers closing in on either side, but Lance didn’t blink, and he didn’t let up on the engines. He roared, together with Black, and the battle around him _shifted_. His vision blurred as Black’s speed doubled, then doubled again. They shot forward faster than the Black Lion should have been able to move, faster than he’d ever gone in Red, and phased through the wall of enemy ships.

He laughed as he came out the other side into open space, fleeting explosions reflected in the other lions’ hulls. They had gathered before the wormhole with the castle-ship, Hunk and Pidge cheering as Lance rejoined them. Together they plunged into the wormhole, chased by a few desperate lasers that vanished into the swirling chaos of the wormhole.

Lance didn’t start breathing again until the last laser winked out. His friends’ adrenaline-fueled cries resounded in the air, but he couldn’t make sense of them. They were alive. They’d made it out.

“Maulinda,” he said, breathless. “Keith, did you--”

“I am here,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Thank you, paladins.”

Lance smiled, pressing a shaking hand to the top of his helmet. “No need to thank us, Maulinda. Saving the day is kinda our thing.”

“Even if it was a little touch and go there for a while,” Hunk said.

“We pulled through.” Keith met Lance’s eyes, smiling broadly. “Thanks to Lance.”

Lance flushed, waving his hands in the air. “I didn’t--”

“Didn’t let the pressure get to you?” Pidge asked. “You’re right.”

“No! I just--”

“You handled yourself very well, Lance,” Allura said. “You should be proud.”

Lance spluttered a few more feeble protests, his face burning, before another voice silenced him altogether.

“You should listen to your team, Lance. They usually know what they’re talking about.”

“Shiro?” Lance squeaked. “What are--? Why--? When did you--?”

Shiro laughed, the sound bright and easy, and the castle’s visual feed popped up in the corner of Lance’s screen. Shiro stood on the bridge with Coran, dressed in his armor. “About five minutes ago. I made it to the bridge just about the time that second fleet showed up.”

“Wanted to take a shuttle and join the battle,” Coran added, slapping Shiro’s back. “I tried to talk him down, but he wasn’t hearing it. You know how he is.”

Shiro gave Coran a disgruntled look, but it faded to a smile as he turned back to the camera. “Fortunately, I didn’t have to do a thing. You guys were in good hands.”

There was a chorus of agreement from the others that quickly devolved into a loud, excited retelling of the battle for Shiro’s benefit. Lance let the others handle the storytelling as Black rumbled beneath his hands. It wasn’t Blue’s friendly encouragement or Red’s fierce enthusiasm, but something softer. Something that swelled in his chest as he led the team back to the hangars and emerged to a series of pats on the backs, thumbs up, and an exuberant hug from Hunk that lifted Lance off his feet.

But it was Shiro’s hand on his arm that settled beneath Lance’s skin like a warm glow.

“Thanks for taking care of them for me.”

Lance smiled back at him, and then at his team, who had gathered around Maulinda, Coran checking her for injuries, Hunk asking whether there was anything they could get for her. Keith stood apart from the group and, seeming to sense Lance’s gaze, turned and caught his eye.

“I told you,” Keith said. “Black knows what she’s doing.”

Lance looked up at her, smiling as she wrapped him in a wave of warm affection. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess she does.”


End file.
